


Holding On To You

by orphan_account



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Angst, Blow Jobs, Drinking to Cope, Drunk Steve Rogers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not As Dark As The Tags Make It Sound, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Thor Is Not Stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 09:19:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7216648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve goes through a bad period, and Thor's not there to help. When he returns from Asgard and finds the state Steve has got himself into, he decides to implement a plan of action. But, before anything serious really gets done, Steve is going to get horrendously drunk on Asgardian liquor, and just forget about everything for the night.</p><p>-o-o-o-</p><p>Basically an excuse for me to write Thundershield b̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶i̶ ̶a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ ̶l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶w̶e̶i̶r̶d̶ ̶p̶a̶i̶r̶i̶n̶g̶s̶ and drunk a̶n̶d̶ ̶g̶a̶s̶s̶y̶ Steve with some ~feelings~ thrown in. And yes, the title is absolutely a reference to the Twenty One Pilots song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding On To You

**Author's Note:**

> Sup y'all. Hope you like this little story, I'm not quite sure how it happened except it probably has something to do with insomnia. Anyway, kudos, comments, prompts and criticisms are all appreciated, have a lovely time and stay cool.
> 
> \- Lo

Some days, nothing seems to go right.

Some days they're called out and the team doesn't listen, or the problem really is too big for six to solve, no matter how good that six may be. Sometimes he makes the wrong call. That's the worst of all. Sometimes he does everything right and there are still too many casualties, and the team come home sporting bruises and broken bones.

Some days there are no call outs, but all he can think of is Bucky.

Some days he visits Peggy and she's worse, finally showing her age, tired and forgetful and frail. He thinks of the old days - how could he not? He remembers being a scrawny Brooklyn kid who slept in a bed with lice and scratchy sheets, who was made wheezy by climbing stairs and spent the fall and winter months with a constantly runny nose. He remembers his mother.

Thor can always tell when he's having one of these days. He notices when Steve seems to be attacking the punching bag with a little more fury than usual, or when he disappears in the middle of the night to run the route he knows so well, lap after lap beneath the moonlight. He notices when Steve's meals are few and far between and he's relying on protein shakes to keep his enhanced metabolism functioning at all. He sees the tension in every toned muscle, and the urgency and fear in his eyes. Thor is not the idiot some would like to think. His culture may glory in it, but he knows the scars of war when he sees them. He will not let Steve hurt anymore than he has to.

Together they fuck or make love, and there's a distinct difference between the two. Sometimes Steve just needs to get off, and Thor's happy to oblige. This is when they fuck. Other times he needs tenderness, and then they take their sweet time, kissing and touching and caressing each other's bodies, running gentle hands through blond hair and holding each other until they fall asleep in a tangled mess of toned limbs. This is how they make love.

Sometimes Steve just wants to forget, and nobody understands this like Thor.

He hates the times he is forced to return to Asgard. He needs Steve as much as Steve needs him. Every instinct Thor possesses tells him to protect and to comfort, and Steve is the perfect outlet. Steve needs the protection only a god can really give, and they have more in common than most would care to see. He hates having to leave Steve behind for days or sometimes weeks on end. He worries. Constantly. He can drink and feast and spar and cheer with his friends, but it's never the same as before Steve. He keeps meaning to ask Steve to come with him, to travel through the realms and experience Asgard first hand. If he knew Steve was with him he could relax again. And Steve would look damn fine in some traditional Asgardian clothing...

Sometimes he arrives back at the tower and Steve is jovial and composed, cooking for them all and shyly eager to show Thor new drawings he's made or talk about films he's seen. They learn about Midgard together. On these occasions Thor wonders why he ever worried.

Other times he returns, and the reason for his concern is obvious. This is one of those times. He enters the kitchen to find Bruce making tea.

'Greetings,' he says, and smiles as Bruce jumps. 'A world of your own, Dr Banner?'

Bruce returns the smile, albeit a little sheepishly. 'Where else would I be?' he counters. 'How's Asgard?'

'All is well presently,' Thor assures. 'And here?'

Bruce shrugs noncommittally. 'Me and Tony are working and disagreeing, Clint and Nat have been deployed somewhere secret... Nothing out of the ordinary.'

'And our Captain?' Thor attempts to sounds suitably disinterested, as though only being polite. What he and Steve have is theirs and theirs alone, at least for the moment.

'Steve?' Another shrug. It doesn't take a genius to see Bruce is much in need of a night's sleep, and maybe another day or two's worth after that. 'Saw him making one of those shakes earlier. Not much otherwise. I've been down in the lab... Haven't seen much of anyone. Apart from Tony. And heaven knows I've had more than enough of him.' Bruce blinks several times, eyes wide behind his glasses.

'Sleep, Doctor,' Thor advises kindly, squeezing Bruce's shoulder and pretending he isn't seeing huge red flags with Steve's name written all over them.

Bruce smiles wanly. 'You know something? That's the best suggestion I've heard all week.'

With that he abandons his tea and more or less shuffles off in the direction of the elevator and his bedroom, a deceptively unassuming figure. As soon as he's out of sight Thor heads for the stairs, taking them three at a time up towards Steve's floor. He bursts into Steve's room without bothering to knock, and sees the supersoldier curled into the fetal position on the bed. Steve sits up sharply at the sound of an intruder, clad only in a pair of dark sweatpants - Thor's.

'Thor, what the-'

Thor cuts him off with a kiss, before pulling away and cupping Steve's face in his hand. The man's been crying, that much is obvious, and it doesn't look like he's slept much either. Steve goes to push him away but Thor catches his wrist and notices the bruised and broken knuckles.

'Oh Steve,' is all he can say, and something in his chest tightens and cracks and makes him want to cry. He holds Steve's wrists until he gives up his halfhearted fight, and kisses each knuckle tenderly one by one. 'What did you hit?' he says eventually.

'Walls,' Steve mutters, indicating the direction with a jab of his chin. Thor can see the smears of blood in the paintwork, several cracks and one notable dent. Anybody else would have broken a hand. Frankly, he's surprised even Steve hasn't.

Thor never asks too many questions. Instead he sits down next to Steve on the bed, and pulls him into a tight embrace. He feels Steve relax beneath him, pressing his face into Thor's strong chest and curling his fingers around the collar of his jacket like a child. Thor holds him close, one hand on his back and the other on his head. He rocks them both gently from side to side, and whispers soothing affirmations in broken Norse and English. He can hear Steve crying quietly into his shirt, ashamed and desperate and broken.

'I'm never leaving you again,' Thor promises.

'Don't be stupid,' Steve sniffs, swallowing hard.

'I can't stand by and let you hurt alone.'

'Yes, yes you can,' Steve pleads, sitting up. 'Please, Thor. I'm not... I'm not...'

'Not what?'

'I'm not your concern. I'm not anybody's but my own. And I shouldn't be. I just... I shouldn't.'

'You have no idea how it hurts me to hear you say that,' Thor says, fighting the tremor threatening to creep into his voice. 'Steve... To me, you are the single most important person across the nine realms and beyond. I would lay down my life for you a thousand times. You will always be my concern, and you are worthy of that and so much more besides.'

Steve doesn't reply except for the smallest of nods, and together they sit until the tremor in Steve's hands has disappeared and both of them can be sure they're not going to cry if they attempt to speak.

'What hurt you so badly?' Thor says eventually.

'Dreams,' Steve says simply.

Thor understands then. Steve's dreams are torturous and tormenting, they bring up things he deserves to be free of and force him to view the horrors of the war and the ice over and over again, and there's no escape. He can't run from his mind.

'What do you need?' Thor asks.

It's such a simple thing to ask, and it means the world to Steve. Without him even really noticing, Thor has become the focal point of his existence. To know he cares... To see him hurt... It stirs up so many feelings.

'I need to forget. Just for one night I need to make it all go away. And then I can handle it again. I can... I can be Steve again.'

Thor nods. He understands. 'Your hands. They need bandaging.'

'No,' Steve says. 'They don't hurt.'

Thor sighs. When it comes to Steve, he has learnt which battles are worth fighting.

'What can I do?' he asks instead.

Steve is silent for several moments, and when he finally speaks he does so without looking up from his wringing hands.

'I need...' he hesitates, obviously uncomfortable. 'I need to drink. I just need to get drunk and forget for a night.'

Thor bites his lip, and reaches to take Steve's hand in his. 'Are you sure that-'

Steve pulls his hand away. 'Either help me or get out.'

Thor tries not to let it show how much Steve's reaction hurts. It's not his fault, Thor reminds himself. However bad this is for him, it's a hundred times worse for Steve.

'I mean it. You're the only one that can help me, so either do it, or go.'

He weighs up his options. He'd do anything to help Steve, but is drink really the answer? He looks at Steve, who has gone back to lying with his knees to his chest and face turned away from the thunder god. Maybe this _is_ what Steve needs. It's not uncommon, he knows, for Midgardians to drink themselves into a foolish stupor in order to forget their problems for a few hours. Gods, it's not even uncommon on Asgard...

'One time,' Thor says finally. 'This will not become how I help you.'

Steve rolls onto his back. 'Really?'

'Yes. But only tonight.' There's a sinking feeling in Thor's stomach telling him that this might not be the right thing, but he can't refuse Steve when he's like this. He doesn't know what else to do.

'Only tonight,' Steve agrees.

'And then we will conquer your fears in a different manner. Your Falcon can help. And our own good doctor.' He casts his eyes down to meet Steve's. 'Are we in agreement?'

'Drink tonight, therapy tomorrow.' Steve nods.

'Come to my chambers,' Thor says. Not only is his liquor there, but he wants to get Steve out of this room with its blood-smeared walls and unwashed linens. Steve sniffs and pulls a handkerchief from his pocket. Thor can't help but smile at that. Trust Steve to carry a hankie in the twenty-first century. He takes Steve's hand in his, and squeezes. Steve offers him a halfhearted grin, and squeezes back.

Together they sneak down the back stairs to Thor's small suite, and head straight through the sparsely furnished living area into the bedroom. Steve sits down on the edge of the four-poster and pulls Thor in for a kiss, getting the bigger man to straddle him. The god is only too happy to oblige, pushing his tongue into Steve's mouth, and feeling the soldier's teeth nipping at his lower lip and hands squeezing his firm ass. Finally Steve comes up for air, and shudders as the sudden rush of endorphins courses through him. He already looks a little better, Thor reflects, rolling off Steve and reaching beneath the bed for the bottle of finest Asgardian liquor. Having sampled his fair share of Midgardian drinks, he knew the Asgardian liquor was closest to vodka, only sweeter, and dark in colour.

'Are you certain this is what you need?' he asks, offering Steve one final, hopeful out. Steve responds by taking the bottle from his hand and pulling the cork out with his teeth.

'I'm sure.'

He takes a long pull, and Thor feels a distinct tingling in his groin as he watches Steve's Adam's apple bob up and down. Steve lowers the bottle and looks at him, eyes suddenly innocent again.

'You will look after me, won't you?'

'Always,' Thor says, swinging Steve's legs up onto the bed and moving him against the headboard. Steve lets himself be moved around, which can only be a good sign. Resistance is always a worry when it comes to Steve. He takes off his jacket and positions himself so he is straddling Steve again, and reaches forward with both hands to press against Steve's pectorals.

'You are so very beautiful Captain,' he says sincerely.

Steve manages a snort at that. 'As are you.' He smiles dumbly before adding, 'My handsome prince.'

It's clear the first traces of the alcohol are already reaching his head: this is strong stuff, even for gods. He takes another swallow, and looks up at Thor. 'Kiss me.'

He doesn't need telling twice. Thor kisses him again, soft and deep and passionate, Steve giving him absolutely everything. He's beginning to see the tent of Steve's hard-on through the sweatpants, and squeezes the bulge through the fabric. Steve jumps slightly at the sudden sensation before moaning pleasurably.

'You're wearing my clothes, Captain,' Thor murmurs, pulling away so he can whisper in Steve's ear and plant a line of kisses down his jaw.

'Not for much longer, I'd wager,' Steve counters. He puts the bottle down on the nightstand and pulls Thor down to meet him for another kiss before rolling over to put himself on top. Thor wraps a muscled leg around Steve's body, feeling the soldier tightening his grip on the god's long locks. Steve's bulge is obvious now, sizable cock straining against the fabric of the sweatpants. Steve thrusts forward and lower to kiss Thor's neck, and Thor can feel the man's hard-on pressing against his stomach. His own cock is quickly rising to rival his lover's, held back by the fabric of his khakis. He reaches a hand down to fumble with his belt, but Steve grabs his wrist and pins it on the pillow next to Thor's head.

'Let me,' he says. Deftly he unbuckles Thor's belt and pops the button on his waistband. Suddenly given more freedom Thor's cock rises enough to push the zipper down without Steve's help. Steve looks at him, one eyebrow raised, impressed. 'Well look at you,' he says, and there's suddenly something devilish in his smile.

'It's what you do to me,' Thor says, and takes a sharp breath in as Steve's hand squeezes him through the fabric of his boxers. 'What do you need, Steve? Tell me what you need.'

Steve sits up so he's kneeling over Thor. 'I need to take you in my mouth and suck you off. I'm gonna drink you fuckin' dry.' The last couple of words are slightly slurred, and Steve's inhibitions are quite obviously lowering: even in the bedroom he's normally prim and proper to the last.

He slips off the bed and onto the floor, kneeling at the edge of the bed. 'Come here,' he says, beckoning Thor forward with a finger. 'I want you like this.'

Thor obeys, sliding forward to the edge of the bed so Steve is positioned between his legs, half naked and giddy with arousal. Steve tugs at his khakis until they come free, pulling them away from Thor's legs and flinging them haphazardly behind him. Thor helps him with the boxers: lust and drink are driving Steve wild, and it's just easier this way. Saves him the possibility of some unpleasant scratches from Steve's surprisingly sharp fingernails. Free of any restraint his cock springs up thick and red, and Steve's down on him in seconds. He cards a hand through the supersoldier's hair as he take the length of his shaft, tracing his tongue up the vein he finds there and running his teeth tantalizingly across the sensitive skin. He bucks against Steve, holding him in place with a hand on the back of his head. Steve has one hand anchored on Thor's muscled thigh while the other tickles and ever-so-gently squeezes his testicles, running circles on the tender skin. Steve moans as he tastes the first drops of pre-cum, locking both his hands around Thor's sturdy midsection and moving his head forwards and back, circling Thor's length with his tongue. He digs his nails into Thor's back, finding any purchase he can, and Thor lets him. The god holds his head steady and moans as Steve tongues his slit.

'Steve,' he says huskily.

Steve knows what he's being warned of and thrusts forward forcefully, taking Thor's length in all the way even as it threatens to gag him. Steve's fingers trail teasingly across his balls, and that's all it takes: he bucks and comes with a moaned cry into Steve's mouth, hot semen filling the soldier's throat. Thor pulls away, dick wet with Steve's saliva. He sits back, leaning on his hands and panting. Steve kneels before him, beautiful and tousled and with cum leaking from the corner of his mouth. He licks his lips, and it's gone. He smiles up at Thor and lunges towards him, catching the god off guard and pushing him back flat against the bed. He laughs at Thor's surprise and nips at his ear, running his hands up under the cotton of Thor's shirt. Thor pushes himself into sitting, Steve squirming in his lap, and pulls the t-shirt off over his head.

'Better?' he says. Steve answers with a kiss. Thor can taste himself on the other man. It's not unpleasant. 'What do you want me to do for you?' he asks. 'How can I help you relieve _this_?' With the final word of the sentence he squeezes Steve's bulge, noting the small wet spot that's appeared in the fabric. Steve swipes the liquor bottle from the nightstand and takes another drink. This time Thor can't resist: he leans in and sucks on Steve's throat, feeling his Adam's apple moving beneath him. It's enough to set his cock twitching again already.

'You like that?' Steve asks, and hiccups.

Thor nods. 'Aye. Do you mind?'

Steve shakes his head and blinks heavily several times. Yes, Thor thinks, the liquor's definitely beginning to do its thing.

'I want you to make me come,' Steve says, stifling another small hiccup, 'but just use your - _hic_ -ands. Hands. I want to see your face as you make me come.'

Thor gently takes the bottle from Steve's hand and sets it back on the nightstand before hooking his thumbs inside the waistband of his stolen sweatpants and pulling them down. Steve isn't wearing underwear, and his cock's already leaking.

'Look at the mess you've made,' Thor says, grinning as he indicates the stain on the sweatpants.

Steve doesn't even bother to feign shame. Thor chuckles, and sends the sweatpants the same way his khakis went, leaving Steve naked and beautiful in front of him, erection sticking out purposefully. Thor takes a small bottle of lube from the nightstand and squeezes a little onto his hands before taking Steve's cock and beginning to jerk him off. He leans in close to Steve as he does so, the other man pliant and happy with his head cradled in the pillows.

'Are you sure this is what you want?' he whispers, knowing he's pleasing Steve in exactly the right way. Steve grunts a reply, taking a fistful of Thor's hair in his hand and holding onto it protectively. Thor begins to suck on Steve's nipples, alternating between them, both hard enough to cut diamonds. He changes his grip on Steve's erection, twisting his hand and running his thumb over the slit, still dripping pre-cum. Steve bucks beneath him and lets out an almost primal whine of pleasure. With a single finger Thor begins to runs circles around Steve's hole, wishing he could see it from his position but settling for sucking a hickey onto Steve's collarbone instead. Steve writhes beneath him, hands fisting the black bed sheets but still unable to keep still as Thor squeezes his dick and gently pushes into his hole with his finger.

'You're so beautiful, Thor,' Steve says, 'and charming. And honest. _Hic_. And loyal. And- oh fuck, Thor!'

Steve's even more surprised than Thor by his unforeseen climax, but suddenly he's ejaculating thick ribbons of cum over his stomach and Thor's hand too. It has to be the drink. He's never been so taken aback by an orgasm before. He lies there gasping and spent, the effort of the day finally catching up with him, the weights, the cardio... Punching the walls. All of it. Punctuated, of course, by Thor's astounding handjob.

Thor wipes his hand clean on his discarded t-shirt, and falls down next to Steve on the bed, planting a kiss on the soldier's cheek. 'Are you satisfied?'

Steve smiles, a little weakly still, and pushes himself to sitting. 'Very.'

There's a comfortable buzz in the back of his head. He can feel it there, warm and giddy. He takes the bottle from the nightstand and gulps back another couple of mouthfuls of the sweet liquor. This is the source of the warmth he's feeling, he knows that. He offers the bottle to Thor, who takes a single swig before passing it back. He watches Steve, wondering if he should be concerned or cut Steve off. But they'd agreed. One night of drunkenness. Any of the mortals would be allowed it, so why not Steve? All the same, he's going to stay sober. He puts his hands behind his head and relaxes into the pillows, looking up at Steve.

_Hic._

'Son of a-' Another hiccup cuts Steve off.

Thor chuckles. 'Perhaps slow down a little, sweetling.'

Steve hiccups once more, and takes a breath in. These hiccups _hurt_ , dammit. He breathes out, convinced he's got them under control, and is genuinely surprised by the little burp that escapes his lips with it. He really is losing himself to the liquor now. He claps a hand over his mouth and looks at Thor wide-eyed.

'Excuse you,' Thor chuckles.

'Sorry,' Steve says, falling back sloppily against the headboard with a faintly embarrassed smile. 'I'm sure that's very attractive.'

Thor props himself up on one elbow, and faces Steve. 'You grow more attractive to me every day, and that won't change.' He smirks. 'No matter how much you belch.'

He can see the alcohol-induced glazed look in Steve's eyes clearly now. There's something beautiful about his vulnerability, his willingness to let his guard down in front of Thor in a way he never would around anybody else. Steve takes another long swallow, and looks at Thor seriously.

'I want to kiss you on the face,' he says. Thor suppresses laughter and obliges, meeting Steve for a long, messy kiss.

Steve pulls away so suddenly Thor nearly falls on his face, and as he looks up to protest Steve releases an enormous, rumbling belch. Thor recoils automatically, clapping a hand over his nose and mouth. Steve blinks, as if wondering how such a noise (and _smell_ ) could have come from him, and then looks at his lover.

'I could taste you on that one,' he says offhandedly.

Thor grimaces. 'I vowed to love you through your eructations, but you could spare me the details of them.'

Drunk Steve was No Inhibitions Steve, Thor was quickly learning. It's equal parts refreshing and horrifying. It occurs to him then that, based on the state of his knuckles, Steve probably hasn't eaten properly for at least a day or two. He sits up and pulls on a pair of clean-looking lounge pants.

'I'm going to get you some water and food, Steve. Stay here until I return.'

Steve salutes him as he leaves, and Thor hopes to all the gods that he'll just stay put. He makes for the kitchen as quickly as he can, and throws a PB&J sandwich together for Steve along with a bottle of water and a Gatorade. He senses the latter might be good for later. When he returns he is thankful to find Steve has only moved into the living room area of the suite, and is sprawled in one of the armchairs with his dick half-hard in his hand. Thor bites the inside of his cheek and focuses on the facts: Steve is drunk, Steve is vulnerable, Steve is hung like a goddamn horse... No. He isn't going to do this.

'Steve,' Thor says, fighting for his composure and crouching down in front of the drunken man, 'I want you to eat this for me.' He offers the sandwich towards Steve, who obediently takes a bite. 'That's my boy.' He looks around. 'Where's the liquor, Steve?'

Steve looks at him bleary eyed, and attempts (mostly unsuccessfully) to stifle a burp. 'S'cuse me.'

'Steven,' Thor says evenly, 'where's the bottle?'

Steve shudders as a hiccup rocks through his abdomen. 'Finished it,' he says. 'Suck me off?'

Thor isn't sure whether to laugh or cry at Steve's new-found boldness. He should be taking a recording of this, he realises, but the camera on his new phone is still somewhat beyond him. Anyway, he's sure Steve will be feeling bad enough tomorrow without video evidence of this conversation to add to the situation. He'll tell him all about it though, every last detail.

'Can't stop burpin',' Steve says, proving his point as he lets rip another belch. 'Pardon _-urp-_ me.' Steve giggles, face flushed. He takes Thor's hand in his, and then leads it to his semi. Thor pulls away, albeit just a little reluctantly, and goes to find the bottle. Just as Steve said it would be, it's empty. This can't be good. There's a thud from the other room, and Thor darts back to find Steve face down on the carpet and giggling.

'What happened?'

'I was gonna-' Another round of giggling cuts Steve off, followed by a small, almost delicate burp. 'Was just... Wanted you.'

Thor smiles, somewhere between exasperation and adoration, and helps Steve back to the couch. He's still half-hard.

'Help me,' Steve wheedles, spreading his legs.

'You're drunk, Steve.'

Steve shrugs. 'Still horny.'

'No.' It's not that Thor doesn't want to, there's just something that feels wrong about getting frisky with Steve when he's so far gone. He's barely Steve at all right now. But that had been the point really, Thor supposes. Just to escape for a while. He sits down next to Steve and puts his arm around him, listening as he mumbles some incomprehensible song lyrics.

'I wanna... I wanna go outside,' he says suddenly, and goes to stand up. Thor holds him back.

'Steve,' he says firmly, 'sit down. You cannot venture outside. It's late, and you're naked.'

'Wanna go outside!' Steve says it like a petulant child, and makes a dash for the door. Thor, in his sobriety, catches him quickly, and throws him over his shoulder in a fireman's lift.

'No,' he says, giving Steve's ass cheek a gentle smack. Steve struggles against him, wriggling frantically, and it is an accident when his foot makes direct contact with Thor's groin. The god groans and loosens his grip on Steve, instinctively moving a hand to the injured area. Next thing he knows they're wrestling on the floor, and then both laughing, even as his crotch continues to throb. He rolls over on top of Steve and pins his arms on either side of his head, easily beating Steve in his inebriated state. Suddenly Steve's stomach seems to twitch beneath him, and he makes a choked noise. Thor has him up on his knees in front of the toilet in seconds, and holds onto Steve as he vomits.

They're never doing this again.

'S'alright,' Steve mutters eventually, sitting up. 'I'm good.'

Thor wipes around his mouth with toilet paper, and leads him over to the sink to brush his teeth.

'Gods love you, Steve,' he sighs, planting a gentle kiss on Steve's temple.

'I wanna have sex,' Steve says, toothpaste foam dribbling down his chin.

Again, whether to laugh or cry...

'Not tonight, Steve,' he says simply, rubbing his eyes. Babysitting, it turns out, is tiring. Through the open door of the bathroom he can see half a PB&J squashed into the carpet of the living room. 'Come on. Time for bed.'

'I don't wanna sleep.'

'Then we'll watch a movie.'

Steve nods his agreement to that, and Thor helps him back into bed before climbing in with him and instructing JARVIS to put on a movie, any movie, just so long as it was one Steve had seen before and liked. The opening titles of The Third Man flicker onto screen, and Steve shifts so he is comfortably curled into Thor's side, the thunder god's arm protective around him. He links his fingers with Thor's, and kisses the back of his hand.

'Love you,' he whispers.

'And I love you,' Thor promises. 'And come the morning, we will talk of more serious matters.'

'Uh-huh,' Steve yawns. Despite his earlier protestations, he falls asleep almost immediately, and Thor is left awake and contemplative. In the morning they will discuss Steve's behaviour in his absence, and how to proceed. Thor will not let Steve endanger himself. One night's indulgence and fun is all well and good, but it won't solve anything. And, if he's truly honest, he doesn't especially want to play parent again, at least not for a long time. One day, Steve will see himself the way Thor does.

Some nights all Thor does is worry.

Steve shifts in his sleep and makes a small snuffling noise, the light from the television gently illuminating his features. Thor smiles. He's seen few more adorable things in his time.

Some nights all he can do is feel blessed and loved and remember how truly lucky he is.

Some nights there's a little of both.

Every night, he is loved.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!


End file.
